


Stay: An alternate ending for The Angel of San Bernardino

by fireopal77



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angel of San Bernardino, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Love, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireopal77/pseuds/fireopal77
Summary: What if Lucifer had stayed to comfort Chloe instead of leaving to confront Pierce?





	Stay: An alternate ending for The Angel of San Bernardino

The child opens the door. She doesn’t say a word, just steps aside and lets him in, a subtle turn of her head indicating where her mother is.

 

Chloe doesn’t even turn to look at him. She’s sunk so deep in the sea of despair that she doesn’t even know he’s there. She’s sitting on the couch, amidst the usual pile of plump decorative pillows and soft fleecy throw blankets, her cheek cradled in her palm as though that’s the only way she can hold her head up. The flickering firelight shows him a hurt that goes too deep for tears, at least right now; she’s still too stunned to cry. Lucifer recognizes the faraway look in her eyes, no one needs to tell the former Lord of Hell that her mind is constantly rewinding in an endless loop to replay each excruciating moment when affection suddenly turned into rejection. He can hear the agonizing questions, reverberating and overlapping, echoing inside her skull: _Why? Did I say, did I do, something wrong? Did I expect too much? Was I too needy? Did I push too hard? Or hold back too much? What’s wrong with me? Why did he do this? What happened? Why aren’t I good enough?_ _What was it about me that made him change his mind?_

 

His first instinct is to turn around and walk right back out, to go and beat Pierce into a bloody pulp of quivering red meat and a jigsaw puzzle of broken bones and scatter the pieces all over the world so it will take him a century or more to put himself back together. Trixie still stands like a sad-eyed soldier at the door, ready to open it once more. Her tiny hand starts to turn the handle when Lucifer begins to move in her direction. But something stops him. It’s been a night of betrayals, for both the Devil and his Detective. But Mazikeen got it wrong—though he may not always show it, and his actions might indicate otherwise, nothing is more important to Lucifer than Chloe.

 

He can’t leave her.

 

She’s so lost in confusion and pain that even when he’s standing before her it takes a few moments for her to register his presence.

 

“Lucifer, please, I…”

 

Before the words are out, he’s beside her, and she’s burrowing into his arms, and he can feel the hot tears soaking through his shirt, straight into his heart. Every tear she sheds feels like torture to him.

 

“He said I wasn’t worth it,” Chloe whimpers, the tears catching in her throat, trying to strangle the hateful, hurtful words she wants so badly to forget but knows she’ll always remember.

 

Lucifer leans down and presses a feather-light kiss onto the top of her head.

 

“Then he’s a fool…”

 

A fresh burst of wracking sobs drowns out the rest of his words, spoken a smidgen softer, so perhaps that’s his intention.

 

“…for which I’m grateful.”

 

An hour or more passes, the convulsive sobs become fewer and further between as Lucifer holds Chloe and strokes her hair and back. Soon silence reigns, disturbed only by the soft, subtle sounds of their mingled breathing and the occasional crackle of dancing flames.

 

Trixie tiptoes out of her room and finds them sleeping, entwined in a tangled nest of blankets and pillows. Chloe’s head is on Lucifer’s chest, like she’s fallen asleep soothed by his heartbeat, and his arms hold her close. Trixie smiles at the sight and picks up a plush blush-colored blanket from the floor and covers them properly before returning to her room.

 

When Pierce comes knocking Trixie’s already in her pajamas and about to turn out her bedside light. She ignores him and says a little prayer asking God to “please, please, please!” not let him wake them. Lucifer looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and now that her mother is all cried out she needs to rest, and they’re both exactly where they need to be right now. If Pierce wakes them up, Lucifer will leave, when he really needs to stay.

 

Though she liked seeing her mom happy, Trixie always knew that she’d be happier with Lucifer, but she also knew her mother wasn’t ready to admit it. Adults are funny like that. Sometimes love can be standing or sitting right next to them, always there, day after day, but they get so used to it being there, after a while they don’t even notice it or mistake it for something else, and sometimes something, or someone, gets in the way and they lose sight of the one thing they shouldn’t. And sometimes, where love is concerned, they’re all great big fraidy cats.

 

Pierce stands outside the window, letting his eyes adjust to the dim fire- and lamp- lit apartment. The minutes crawl by slowly as snails. He’s about to leave when he spies a movement on the sofa. Chloe sits up, yawns, pulls the band from her disheveled hair, shakes it out, and stands up stiffly, stretching and rubbing her lower back. He watches her bend down, the back of the sofa blocks his view, and he can’t tell what she’s doing. Probably tending to Trixie he guesses. The little girl likes to snuggle on the couch beside her mother and often falls asleep there, but she’s too big now for Chloe to carry her to bed so she has to wake her. Maybe knocking now and offering to help will pave his way back into Chloe’s good graces? Just as he starts to step towards the door again, Lucifer stands up, all tousled hair and rumpled suit, bleary-eyed and stubble-faced; it’s what Chloe calls his homeless magician look.

 

Holding both his hands, Chloe guides Lucifer around the sofa, he’s so tired he’s practically sleepwalking, and leads him upstairs to her bedroom.

 

The door closes behind them. Pierce stands at the window for 66 slow and agonizing minutes, staring at that door, waiting for it to open again. But it never does.


End file.
